


Possessed

by CrystalNinjaPhoenix



Series: Crystal's Septic Fic Universe [3]
Category: jacksepticeye
Genre: Gen, Panic Attack, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25157572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalNinjaPhoenix/pseuds/CrystalNinjaPhoenix
Summary: On Halloween night 2017, Marvin decides to wander aimlessly about the city to relax. Instead, he finds a new threat—or perhaps a new friend…
Series: Crystal's Septic Fic Universe [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1842199
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	1. Prologue?

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first fic I ever wrote in this community, so bear with me with any mistakes I might've made. It's, as of writing this note, one of only two fic series that I have finished, and since it's where it all started, I figured why not copy it over from Tumblr? Hope you enjoy!

When I was young, I’d often overhear people tell my parents I was cursed. “He’s so quiet,” they’d say. “And born on the night of the devil!” They’d always see me listening, and their expressions would change to horror as they tried to explain to the little boy that they hadn’t _really_ meant it when they’d said he was a bad omen. I’d always forgiven them, but I wouldn’t pretend their words hadn’t stung.

Perhaps it was those rumors that started my interest in witchcraft. After all, if I was already cursed, what did I have to lose from playing with forces best left alone? I’d started dabbling shortly after moving out, when I first had my own space without parents peering around every corner. I began by practicing small spells: a charm to bring good luck, a ward against evil, the like. Things that wouldn’t cause too much harm if they backfired. But I was curious. Could I pull off bigger, more impressive spells?

The problem was finding spellbooks. My local library stocked a few of them, the ones with harmless magic inside. But I wanted more. And at as my desire to learn more about witchcraft grew, my film career began to take off. There was no problem with being silent in a motion picture. All the words were added in later! So I had to put my search for spells on hold for a while my equal passion for being on the big screen took over.

I stumbled back into witchcraft by pure accident. I went out for a night on the town to unwind after a busy day. Exploring areas of the town I was unfamiliar with, I found a small shop I’d never seen before. The window was filled with leather-bound books, statuettes of spirits, wands made of wood, and various crystals. Walking in, I found the inside sold all those things and more. Eagerly, I swooped upon the books and spent hours browsing the tomes before picking out a few to take back home.

The little old woman who ran the shop let most of my purchases slide by without comment, but when she came to the last volume, bound in black, green, and red, she asked me if I was sure I wanted it. Seeing me nod, she shook her head and said, “I won’t stop you. But be warned: these spells are meant for experienced casters. Ones who know the dangers that they come with. Don’t jump into them unprepared, or you might find yourself damned, or worse. And for god’s sake, don’t give away what you _fear_.”

I followed her advice. For months, the spellbook lay neglected, hidden beneath the others in the chest I’d gotten for that exact purpose. I practiced other magic, spells for prosperity, for love, for health. Spells to banish evil from someone’s heart, to bring benevolent spirits into my life. Spells that advanced my career, that gave me all the fame I wished for. I devoured everything the books gave me.

But it wasn’t long before that curious itch came over me again. I wondered about the darker kind of spells. I wouldn’t ever use them, but I wanted to know them nonetheless, just for the sake of knowing. My mind wandered back to the spellbook I’d been warned against. Was I experienced enough yet? I’d read enough about possible dangers that could come from malpractice of magic. Was it worth the risk?

Yes, I decided. One day, when I had nothing else to do, I sat down with the book. I’d surrounded myself with protection—I wore amulets and rings, tokens of good will were scattered around the room, candles were lit to repel dark spirits, and I’d drawn a magical circle around where I sat. I opened the book, and read. I learned about demons that would consume souls, spells meant to cause the worst kind of harm, and darker magic that I hesitated to even think about longer than it took to read the passage.

It was late into the night when I turned the page to the final entry. Excited to be done, I turned too fast, and cut my finger. I’d never like seeing blood, let alone my own. I swallowed my panic, then rushed out of the room to get a bandage. At the time, I’d thought my passing had extinguished the candles’ flames, but later I realized I hadn’t caused the great gust of wind required to put out all the candles at once.

After that, I noticed some strange things. It started with a flicker in the corner of my vision, a flicker that I always thought looked like a person. Then, I began getting strange, random nosebleeds that certainly caused a great deal of difficulty when they came on during filming. Time passed, and I thought I heard someone laughing, whispering mocking things in my ear. I was scared. I put up every single form of magical protection I’d ever heard about, only to find them all destroyed. A warding amulet I’d worn seemed to be misplaced, though I couldn’t remember taking it off. A parchment of protection symbols I’d hung over my door ended up on the ground, torn to shreds. Nothing lasted more than a week.

Desperately, I tried to find the shop where I’d purchased my spellbooks, including the one I’d been warned against. But when I found it, it was shut up. For not much longer than a few days, it looked like. There was a note tucked underneath the front door, with various messages on it addressed to different people. At the bottom, it read, “To the silent man, I hope you took my advice. If you’ve returned looking for help, then I’m sorry to say I cannot. Maybe no one can. But I will give you the one bit of knowledge I have: if you’ve found yourself haunted by fear, give him nothing. Don’t tell others, don’t acknowledge him, and _don’t say his name.”_ That last part wouldn’t be hard for me.

Once again, I followed her advice. And for some time, it seemed to get better. The strange flickering and laughing disappeared, and my protection wards remained in place. I relaxed, letting myself focus on my films, on my friends, and on my family. My birthday was approaching, and I wanted to be happy and carefree. I had an idea for a short film—taking a comedic spin on a tradition for the holiday I was born on.

I borrowed a camera from the film company I usually worked with, promising to return it. I bought the pumpkins from a local farmer, and used my candles for a sense of atmosphere. Everything went well, from the preparation to the carving. I got a friend to help in a few locations, but she left quickly, on her way to some dance hall. Before long, the short film was mostly done.

I shouldn’t have let my guard down.

It was time to clean up. I picked up the knife, intending to put the most dangerous object away first. Instead, I found myself stabbing the pumpkin again. I hadn’t done it; my hand had moved by itself. When I tried to pull the knife out of the pumpkin, I cut my palm wide open instead. Horror flooded my mind at the sight of the blood. I kept bandages nearby in preparation for working with knives, and started wrapping up the wound. But something was wrong. I was looking at the camera instead, and smiling. Then, I _was_ bandaging the wound. Then I was staring at the camera again.

I tried to stand up, I tried to run away, but my body was no longer mine to control. A clawed hand was clamped around my mind, my entire being in the grasp of something that was _laughing_ at me. “Stay a while,” it whispered. “ Have some f̷u̵n̴.”

The world was breaking around me, like a corrupted film strip. Red afterimages flickered into existence as all other color drained away. I was laughing—I shouldn’t have been able to laugh, but I could feel it rasping through my throat. I took the knife and cut myself again and again, laughing all the while. The cuts burned like acid had been poured in the open wounds, and I wanted to scream, but even if I could have, the _thing_ wouldn’t let me. It was laughing at my pain, running mental claws down my mind as it drank in my terror like a fine wine.

It was a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare. I hoped with every fiber of my being that it was just a dream, but I knew it was false.

“Oh yes, it’s a nightmare, alright,” the thing said to me, its voice coming from my own mind. “But you’ll n̸e̸v̴e̵r̷ wake up. This is just t̷h̴e̴ b̵e̷gi̴nn̶i̴ng̷, my̷ lit̷tl̶e̴ p̶̿upp̷e̵t̵̆̉.”

Everything went dark, and the last thing I heard was his laughter.


	2. Broken Spells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Halloween night 2017, Marvin decides to wander aimlessly about the city to relax. Instead, he finds a new threat—or perhaps a new friend…

“Is Chase doing okay?” Marvin asked, speaking into the phone.

“He’s hanging in there,” Jackie replied on the other end. “A little upset ‘cause he can’t take the kids trick-or-treating, but there’s not much to do there. You busy?”

Marvin snorted. “If that’s some half-assed way to ask me to come help babysit with you, it’s not gonna work.”

“It’s not babysitting!” Jackie yelled. “It’s called ‘hanging out with a friend who needs company!’”

“Yeah, well, I have plans.”

“Doing what?”

“Things.”

“Marvin I swear to god, if you’re blowing me off for no reason I’ll sneak up on you while you’re sleeping and relocate you to the roof of the highest building in the city. You’ll wake up and be hanging off the damn edge.”

“Have fun babysitting,” Marvin laughed, then hung up.

In truth, he did have plans. But he didn’t think the hero would see them as important. Jackie was the type of person who cared violently about his friends, and spent every moment of free time he had with at least one of them. Marvin was not like that. Every so often, he needed some time to relax, to think.

Halloween night. The one time when the magician could go out in full costume—mask, cape, wand and all—and not get any weird looks. For all anyone knew, he was on his way to a party. But no. Marvin just enjoyed wandering the city and exploring new areas. He also happened to like wearing his costume. So why not combine the two?

He stopped, leaning against a fence, and observed his surroundings. He’d made his way to the suburbs. This was actually very near Chase’s house, so if he wanted he _could_ join Jackie in whatever it was the hero was doing. Children in cheap costumes were running about, followed by semi-enthusiastic parents, waving flashlights and bags of candy. “Nice mask, mister!” a girl in an astronaut costume called. Marvin smiled. “Nice helmet!” he called back. The girl laughed, but her mother standing behind her glared. No doubt suspicious of grown men dressed in dark capes. Marvin decided it was best to move on.

Not two minutes later, a boy ran straight into him, sending candy everywhere. “Sorry, sir,” the boy said.

“No no, it’s fine,” Marvin assured him. “Here, I’ll help.” He stooped, picking up bars of chocolate from where they’d fallen. He looked at the child, ready to hand them over, only to freeze. A white coat, a stethoscope, blue scrubs—was he seeing things?

The boy frowned. “Um, mister?”

Marvin blinked a couple times. The kid was just wearing a costume. Nothing more. “Sorry,” he said. Then smiled, “I think I just saw a ghost.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Marvin gave the boy back his candy. “You have to be careful running around on Halloween.”

“Alright!” The boy gripped his flashlight tighter, blinking it on and off as if to show he was prepared. Then he darted away.

Marvin sighed, setting off again. He was seeing ghosts, just not in the way the kid had thought.

It had been nearly three months since Schneeplestein had disappeared. Three months since the operation on Jack had failed, leaving him in a coma. Three months of Jackie pushing himself to the limit trying to find an answer. Three months of Chase slowly spiraling downward into a black hole of depression. Three months of Marvin himself just getting by any way he can.

They all knew something was off. Something beyond ordinary. But none of them knew what exactly it was. Marvin suspected some sort of black magic, but who would have a grudge against any of them?

Gradually, Marvin realized he was in an area of the city he’d never been to before. The buildings around him were tall and narrow, the architecture decades out of fashion. But…music was coming from somewhere. Marvin struggled to remember the word…ragtime. That was it. Tinny-sounding ragtime music was coming from somewhere nearby. Listening, Marvin followed the sound to one of the houses. He stopped outside the gate. Why would music be coming from here?

“Dude, you don’t want to be going in there.”

Marvin whirled around. A pair of teenagers had managed to sneak up on him: a boy and girl, dressed like a vampire and werewolf respectively. No doubt a couple on their way to a party. “Why not?” Marvin asked.

“It’s supposed to be, like super haunted,” the boy explained. “Some old film star used to live there, who disappeared under mysterious circumstances. People think he was killed and that his ghost hangs out there.”

The girl sniffed dismissively. “Of course, there are lots of perfectly normal reasons to not go tramping through some wreck. It’s condemned. You could fall through the floor and break your neck.”

“Really?” Marvin muttered. “What’re you two doing here then?”

“Shortcut,” the boy said, shrugging. “Anyway, if you want to go in, whatever. It’s your life. Or soul. Bye, dude.” The teens walked away.

Marvin turned back to the house. . He believed in ghosts, of course. It would be hard not to believe in the supernatural when you had real magic flowing through your veins. But the question was, would he rather take a risk with a possibly vengeful spirit, or walk away never having seen a ghost?

“Fuck it,” Marvin said out loud. Curiosity killed the cat after all. He vaulted over the locked gate and crept up the path to the house’s door, following the sound of the music.

* * *

The door creaked when Marvin eased it open. Inside, there was a hall with three doors leading off, each one ajar. A rickety old staircase led up to a second floor. Holes in the ceiling revealed wooden beams. The floor was littered with broken bits of unidentifiable trash. Everything was silent except for the sound of the music, louder now, coming from upstairs.

Cautiously, Marvin climbed the stairs, each step creaking beneath his feet. Reaching the second floor, he saw a similar hall to the one downstairs, minus the steps. The music was coming from the second door on the left. Dodging holes in the floor, Marvin made his way toward it.

He opened the door, hinges groaning loudly, and peered inside. The room was empty, save for a few old-fashioned armchairs and a small table. A phonograph sat on top of the table, its needle tracing a path on a spinning record.

Marvin found his hand instinctively straying to his wand. He pushed the room’s door all the way open, eyes darting left and right, looking for anything unusual. Slowly, he took a step toward the phonograph. Then another. When nothing happened, he half-ran the rest of the way there.

The phonograph kept playing, its ragtime music oddly happy considering the run-down ruin surrounding it. Looking around one last time, Marvin reached out and took the needle off the record, stopping the music.

Silence.

“Huh,” Marvin said. He’d expected more. Sighing, he turned back to the open door.

Except it was no longer open.

Marvin blinked. “Now, that’s more like it,” he muttered. For a split second, the world seemed to break in two, a red photo negative appearing out of nowhere before immediately disappearing. It was barely anything, but accompanying it was an overwhelming sense of nausea, causing Marvin to double over to keep from vomiting. When he straightened up, a figure appeared before him, only to blink out of existence just as quickly.

An uneasy feeling crept over the magician as he drew his wand, spells running through his head. Behind him, the ragtime started up again, slowed and distorted. It wasn’t particularly threatening, just a little creepy. But still, something in Marvin screamed at him to _get out,_ that there were forces here he couldn’t take on by himself.

“All right, you damn ghostie,” Marvin called. “Why don’t you stop being a fucking coward and show yourself?”

The room seemed to tilt beneath his feet, and Marvin stumbled. The world seemed to break again, afterimages of people appearing in red. Color drained from the room, and the music became unrecognizable, punctuated by whispers. Marvin fought the urge to vomit once again, swallowing hard.

The figure appeared before him again, closer this time, before vanishing. Marvin spun around, looking for where it had gone.

It reappeared, right in front of him. Before the magician could even raise his wand to defend himself, hands reached out and grabbed him by the neck. And squeezed hard.

“Arck,” Marvin choked. He grabbed his attacker by the wrists, struggling to pull away, but the figure held on with inhuman strength. Marvin stumbled back, but black spots were already appearing in his vision. A strange laugh seemed to be echoing through his mind, hoarse and strangled like it was being forced through a throat that hadn’t made sound in years.

One more try, Marvin decided. He threw his head back violently and stepped backwards, pulling his attacker with him. But his foot found nothing to land on, and he fell through the floor, landing with a crash.

Groaning, Marvin climbed to his feet. He’d landed in what looked like a study, with a decrepit desk and chair to match. “Well, I’ve had enough,” Marvin said, his voice hoarse. As if responding, the world around him flickered, his surroundings changing to a parlor, to a kitchen, to a bedroom. The magician almost fell to his knees as the feeling of nausea returned, accompanied by a pounding headache and dizziness.

Shaking his head to clear it, Marvin ran to the door and yanked it open, only for it to be slammed shut. The mad, strange laughter rang again. “Shut the fuck up!” Marvin yelled, raising his wand. A blast of green energy erupted from the end, blowing the door open. Before it could close again, Marvin darted through, emerging into the second floor hall.

He had to get out. He’d had his supernatural experience, and he’d hated it. He ran to the stairs, keeping his wand out in front of him for defense. He reached the top step and started down.

The world broke again, red and green afterimages swimming in front of his eyes. He teetered on the edge. All it took was one tiny push…

Marvin tumbled down the stairs, every inch of his body aching by the time he reached the bottom. Somehow, he’d kept hold of his wand. Using the banister, he pulled himself upright.

“Alright, you demon ghost bitch,” Marvin said through gritted teeth. “You want a fight? I’ll give you one. So come out and face me, you dickwad!”

More laughter. The figure appeared and walked toward him, leaving red afterimages with every step it took. Marvin held his wand tight. When the figure was close enough to see its black eyes, the magician brought his wand upward with a yell, pointing it toward the being.

Green flames tinged with purple exploded with a roar, consuming the figure, burning its essence. A scream pierced Marvin’s mind, seeming not to come from the figure but from everywhere. But the magician didn’t waver, keeping up the magic until he was drained of energy and collapsed to his knees.

Struggling to stay conscious, Marvin reflected on what had just happened. Using black magic flames had been a risky maneuver, but black magic was far more powerful than the regular kind. Unfortunately, it came with heavy consequences. Marvin had barely recovered from the last time he’d used it, but given the choice between consequences or death, he’d take the former.

Something stirred in front of him, and Marvin started, raising his wand. The figure had fallen to the floor with him, but something was…different. The heavy weight he’d felt since he’d entered the house had disappeared. Using the minimal amount of magic, Marvin conjured a small, green witch light.

The figure before him was a man, about average height but more slender than considered normal. His brown hair was hidden underneath a black hat, and a curly mustache adorned his face. He wore a blue vest and a bow tie. When he looked up at Marvin, his eyes were not solid black like they had been, but instead baby blue.

“Um, hi?” Marvin said.

The man scrambled back, eyes widening in fear. His head darted about, taking in the surroundings.

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay,” Marvin said. “You’re okay.” He reached forward to help, though he didn’t know how, only for the man to back away. The magician stopped. “So, uh, what’s your name?” he asked.

The stranger shook his head. He tapped his throat with his hand.

“Ah, I see,” Marvin said, his confusion growing. “You, uh, can’t talk. Well…” Marvin glanced around. Was…was the threat gone? But…the threat had been this man…what was going on? “Um, my name is Marvin. I’m magic, as you can probably tell. Uh…d’you—do you want any help?”

The man hesitated, then nodded once.

Marvin stood up, legs trembling beneath him. “Fuck, too much magic,” he hissed under his breath. He held out his hand again. The man paused before taking it and allowing Marvin to hoist him up. Once he’d gotten to his feet, he immediately collapsed straight into Marvin.

“Whoa, buddy,” Marvin said. “I can’t hold you up. We’ll have to help each other.” 

The two managed to stay upright by leaning on each other. Marvin could feel the other man’s uneven heartbeat and shaky breathing. What had _happened_ to him?

“I have a friend who lives nearby,” Marvin said. “We’re gonna head there, okay?” He waited for the other man to nod in agreement before stumbling out of the house, leaving the ruins behind them.


	3. Broken Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Marvin, Chase, and Jackie try to accommodate the new arrival, they find out more about what they’re up against.

Jackie could hear the PlayStation from all the way in the kitchen. He didn’t know if that was because Chase had the volume turned up too much, or if it was just because the house was so quiet normally. Maybe both.

Sighing, the hero glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost midnight. He’d tried suggesting to Chase that maybe it was time to go to sleep, only for his friend to deny feeling tired. Which was, of course, complete bullshit. Jackie could practically _see_ the dark circles growing beneath his eyes. But, as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t force Chase to go to bed.

The hero took a glass from the cabinet, then filled it with tap water. He’d told Chase he was thirsty, and it would look weird to reappear without anything. But that had been a lie. He’d just needed a few moments to regroup, plan a new strategy for getting Chase to take care of himself for once in his life.

“Hey dude,” Jackie said, returning to the living room.

“Hey bro.” Chase didn’t turn away from the screen. Jackie glanced toward it. When he was in the kitchen, Chase had switched to playing Until Dawn.

“Really?” Jackie asked. “It’s not even that good.”

Chase shrugged. “Horror game on Halloween seemed appropriate. And I felt like having a blast from the past, you know?”

“You’re gonna kill all the characters, aren’t you?”

“As early as possible, bro.”

Jackie plopped down on the couch next to Chase, placing the full glass of water on the nearby end table. “You might have trouble sleeping tonight.”

“What, you expect me to have nightmares about some stupid spider zombie? Nah, dude.”

Jackie opened his mouth to retort, but before he could say anything the doorbell rang. Twisting in his seat, Jackie looked toward the front door. “There can’t be any trick-or-treaters still out, can there?” he wondered.

The doorbell rang again. Then, a familiar voice. “I know you’re in there! Both of you! Open the door, assholes!”

“Oh nevermind, it’s just Marvin,” Jackie sighed. “I’ll get it.”

“You do that,” Chase said, still not looking away.

Jackie pushed away from the couch, standing up. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Marv!” he shouted. “I’m coming!” He crossed the living room to the door, and opened it. “Finally decided to show up, didn’t…you…” he trailed off. Marvin was standing on the doorstep, covered in bruises and cuts, supporting a strange man who looked dead on his feet. “Who’s that?”

“Are you just gonna stand there, or can we come it?” Marvin scowled.

Jackie nodded, moving out of the way. The magician stumbled into the house, half-dragging the stranger behind him.

Chase glanced up from the screen, disinterested. His expression quickly changed. “Whoa, dude, what happened?!” he asked, standing up. 

Marvin and the stranger promptly collapsed on the couch. “I may or may not have decided to explore a house that was supposed to be super fucking haunted on Halloween.”

Jackie blinked. “Okay. And why exactly d’you do that? Decided the best way to get into the holiday spirit was to get your literal spirit damned for all eternity?”

“I just fucking wanted to see a ghost,” Marvin grumbled, removing his mask. “Didn’t think it would be _too_ dangerous. But, well—” he glanced over at the other man, who’d curled up against the couch’s armrest and was now staring, enraptured, at the TV screen. “As you can see, it got…a little more complicated.”

“I’m, uh, gonna pause the game real quick,” Chase said, picking up the controller. He pressed the pause button, and the screen changed from a view of the game to the menu. A sharp intake came from the edge of the couch, drawing the three’s attention to the stranger. His eyes had widened, and he’d leaned forward a bit. “What’s up?” Chase asked. “Never seen a TV before?”

The stranger glanced at Chase for a second before immediately looking away. He shrank into himself a bit, not responding. “Yeah, uh, he can’t talk,” Marvin explained. “I think.”

Jackie felt a pang in his chest. “Can we help?” he asked the man, keeping his voice soft. “D’you need anything?”

The stranger stared at the hero, considering. He mimed writing something with his hands. “Pen and paper, of course,” Jackie said, nodding. “I think there’s something in a drawer somewhere.”

“Pad of paper in the hallway,” Chase explained. “I got it.”

“Great. While you’re doing that…” Jackie sat down in a nearby armchair, and said to Marvin, “Can you explain what the _fuck_ happened tonight?”

Marvin glanced nervously at the stranger, then launched into the story. Chase returned with a pad of paper and a ballpoint pen not long after, handing them to the strange man. The man took the writing instruments and frowned at the pen. Then he scribbled on the paper, like he wasn’t sure how to use the pen at all.

“And after I fell down the stairs—” Marvin suddenly stopped. He glanced at the stranger, who merely stared back, then gestured as if to say _go ahead, it’s okay_. “Well, the thing came after me. So I decided that desperate times call for desperate measures, and, uh, burned its essence.”

Jackie choked in surprise. “You can do that?”

“Well, yeah,” Marvin shrugged. “Not without consequences. Burns up a _lot_ of physical energy and…worse. But I was probably gonna die, so I did what I had to. And when I finished with the spell…” he looked over at the stranger. “Well, he was left.”

Chase, who’d been standing quietly nearby through most of the story, suddenly backed away. “Whoa, dude. D’you really think it was a good idea to come here?”

Jackie glared at him. “If you’re gonna stand there and accuse someone of something they probably didn’t do, you can go stand in the other room and accuse from there.”

“That’s-that’s not what I meant,” Chase stuttered. “I just—you gotta be careful, y’know?” When Jackie didn’t let up from his defensive glare, Chase slumped. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “That, uh, didn’t come out how I meant it to.”

“It’s alright,” Jackie said. “I can see where you’re coming from, but we’re _not_ going to turn away someone in need.” Turning back to the stranger, he asked, “Can you tell us your name?”

The stranger nodded, and picked up the pen again. A few moments passed, silent except for the sound of pen on paper. Then the stranger finished, turning the pad of paper around so that the other three could see what he wrote in precise cursive: _My name is Jameson Jackson._

“Nice name,” Marvin said. “The dude in the hat is Chase, and the person in the hoodie is Jackie. Can we call you JJ?”

“I don’t think this is the right time to ask that, Marv,” Jackie said. But the stranger —Jameson—gave a small smile, and nodded.

“Alright, JJ,” Marvin continued, a smile tracing his face. “Can you tell us what exactly happened back there? ‘Cause I’m not sure myself.”

At that, Jameson’s expression fell. “We mean, if you’re feeling up to it,” Chase jumped in suddenly. “No need to get more upset if you don’t have to.”

Jameson shook his head, a new determined light entering his eyes. Still, he hesitated with the pen on the paper, as if figuring out what to write. After a brief moment, he wrote, then revealed: _The being that attacked you was me. But I wasn’t the one doing it._

Jackie frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Oh, like _The Exorcist_?” Chase asked.

This prompted a blank stare from Jameson, then the written words: _I don’t quite understand what you mean by that._

“Y’know, the movie?” Chase asked. “Famous horror flick?”

Jameson frowned. _What’s a “move-y?”_

Marvin, Jackie, and Chase all looked identically shocked. “Like, moving pictures?” Jackie prompted. “Motion pictures? Film?”

 _Oh,_ Jameson wrote. _I know what a film is. I’ve been in a few. I just didn’t know the newfangled slang term._

Marvin coughed. “The word ‘movie’ is pretty fucking old, from what I know. Which, admittedly, isn’t much, but movie definitely isn’t some new slang word.”

Jackie, distressed at seeing Jameson’s confusion, changed the subject. “Anyway, _The Exorcist_ is a horror movie—meant to scare people—about a little girl who gets possessed by a demon. She does all sorts of creepy stuff, but she’s not in control of her body. Is-is that kind of what you meant?”

Jameson nodded. He looked down at the paper, but wrote nothing.

Marvin, who’d been slouching against the couch’s armrest the whole time, straightened. “Damn,” he muttered, eyes sad. “I’m-I’m sorry. That must’ve been…terrifying. Absolute hell.”

Hand shaking, Jameson simply wrote _Thank you_ in small letters. Nothing else.

Silence filled the room as the three others contemplated the horror he must’ve gone through. It was broken by Chase, who said, “Ah, if you—either of you—need any medical help, Doc gave me a pretty extensive first aid kit the last time he was here. I could…go get it…maybe.”

“Yeah, that’d be helpful,” Marvin said. “Thanks, Chase.”

As Chase left the room, Jameson wrote, _You have a friend who’s a doctor?_

“Yeah,” Jackie said. “His name was—is Henrik von Schneeplestein, but we all usually called him Schneep. He’s…been missing for a few months now. Disappeared after an unsuccessful operation on another friend of ours. Jack. He’s in a coma now.” Jackie sighed, then made a visible attempt to cheer up. “But we’re all looking for him. And it won’t be long before we find him. Marvin’s got magic, I’ve got hacking and parkour, and Chase has above-average aim and connections to lots of people.”

Jameson’s eyes widened. Hurriedly, he wrote, _Does your friend Jack happen to have green hair?_

Jackie frowned. “Yeah, actually. It’s kinda fading now, and won’t be long before it’s gone, but…yeah. Why?”

Chase returned, carrying a large red bag with a white cross stamped on the side. “Okay, here it is.” He set the first aid kit down on the coffee table and unzipped it. “There’s a shitload of stuff here, so d’you have anything that needs more than bandages?”

“Nah,” Marvin said. “How ‘bout you, JJ?” He turned to Jameson, but the man was instead fascinated with the first aid kit. Setting aside the pen and paper, he reached forward and began pulling out various plastic boxes full of medical supplies. “Dude, you okay?” Marvin asked.

Startled, Jameson dropped the box he was holding. He picked up the pen again and wrote, _When did they start making these?_

Chase blinked. “Um, Doc said all the supplies were up to date.”

 _Must be pretty new, then. I don’t recognize a lot of this._ Jameson paused, then wrote, _Would’ve been handy ten years ago, huh?_

“What happened ten years ago?” Jackie asked, confused.

Jameson looked startled. _The war._

“Uh, correct me if I’m wrong, ‘cause I usually am, but I don’t think there was a war ten years ago,” Marvin said.

_The Great War. It wasn’t so long ago to the point of people forgetting, is it?_

“Wait.” Jackie’s mind whirled. “The Great War, as in World War I, as in the war that ended nearly _a century ago?”_

Jameson was shocked. _You’re pulling my leg, good sir._

“Jameson,” Jackie said softly. “What year do you think it is?”

After a slight hesitation, Jameson wrote, _1926._

The other three stared at him, in utter astonishment. “No,” Jackie muttered. “No, Jameson. It’s 2017.” Chase and Marvin nodded in agreement.

The man out of time stared at them, expression disbelieving. He looked around at the TV screen, at the first aid kit, at all the furniture and lighting in the room. Then, slowly, he put his head in his hands. He was silent, but there could be no mistaking how he felt.

“I’m so sorry,” Jackie said. “I wish it could be otherwise, but…it’s not something you can change.”

“Fucking decades,” Marvin muttered, shaking his head sadly. He reached out and put a hand on JJ’s shoulder, a reassuring presence.

Chase said nothing, but instead covered his mouth with his hand as tears sprang to his eyes. He was familiar with loss, too, but he couldn’t imagine what it must be like to find out everyone you know is ninety years older than you thought, if they weren’t dead.

Jameson took a deep breath, then straightened up. His eyes were rimmed with red, but he reached for the pen and paper again. He wrote furiously, then turned the paper to reveal: _This is terrible news, but not what you need to know right now. I’ve seen your friend Jack._

Shocked silence. Then, three voices spoke at once: “How is that possible? He’s in a coma!” “When? How? Why? What can we do?” “D’you know how to wake him up?”

In answer to this, Jameson wrote, _It was him. The one who attacked you._

“Wait, a demon put Jack in a coma?” Marvin asked, frowning.

_No, he…wanted a new host. He tried to take him over. Your doctor friend put Jack in a coma to stop him. He got angry, and something happened. I don’t remember the rest. He said the doctor wouldn’t save him again._

“Oh my fucking god,” Chase said, eyes wide. “Wait, remember Halloween last year? Jack…his throat…we thought he did it himself…”

“Looks like this demon’s had his eye on Jack for nearly a year,” Jackie said thoughtfully. He looked at Jameson. “You…you know about this thing?” JJ hesitated, then nodded once. “Do you…think you could help us? Could you tell us what this demon is, exactly?”

JJ’s looked down at his hands. Then, slowly, he wrote, _Yes. But you can’t say his name out loud. It draws his attention. He’s always watching, Antisepticeye._

Chase frowned. “That’s not really an intimidating name.”

_Maybe not. But he is. Anti is not a demon, he is…a thing. He feeds on fear and pain and despair. You most attract him when your mind is not in the best place._

Jackie yawned. Then he chuckled and said, “Like, when we’re sleep deprived.” He stood up. “I think we should all go to bed. _All_ of us.” He glared pointedly at Chase. “You don’t mind if we all sleep over, d’you?”

“I mean, you’d probably do it anyway,” Chase muttered. “I only have one guest bedroom, though.”

“That’s fine, I can sleep on the couch,” Marvin said. “But I think I’ll stay up a bit and, I don’t know, put Band-Aids on my wounds.”

Chase winced. “Right. Sorry for bringing in the first aid kit, then immediately forgetting.” He turned to JJ. “Will you be fine sleeping in the front room?”

JJ nodded, giving a slight smile.

“Good night, then,” Chase said.

“Sweet dreams,” Jackie added with a smile of his own. With that, the two of them left.

Marvin reached to the first aid kit. “You need anything?”

Jameson shook his head, distant.

“There’s a pile of blankets and pillows in the closet in the corner. D’you mind getting them?” As JJ stood up and walked away, Marvin kept talking, “Hey, so, I know you’re all confused and sad, and you have every right to be, and you’re also probably in a lot of pain…god, I’m fucking bad at this. But, ah, you’ll be okay now. I don’t think that An—I mean, _he_ knows about us. And even if he does, we’re not gonna leave you high and dry, you know? That would be fucked up. So, um, don’t worry. You’re okay.”

Jameson didn’t say anything, obviously, but Marvin didn’t think he would’ve if he could. Instead, he merely dumped a pile of blankets and two pillows on the floor by the couch, then looked at Marvin.

The magician smiled. “It’s okay, you can take the couch. I’ve slept in worse places than the floor of a suburban home.” He stood up, moving position to the armchair and taking the first aid kit with him.

JJ smiled, as if to say thank you. Then he took one of the pillows and a few of the blankets, and curled up on the couch. He fell asleep almost as soon as his eyes closed.

Marvin sighed. He’d known that something was off about the doctor’s disappearance and Jack’s coma, but he never would’ve expected this. Some creature, out to possess Jack as his new host, and a silent man stranded from his own time period by that very same creature? It was insane. But, he supposed, not impossible to believe. He’d read about things just as unbelievable in his study of magic. At least now they knew just what had happened to Schneep and Jack, and could work on getting them back.

After bandaging his wounds, Marvin used the remaining pillow and blankets to make a bed on the floor. Turning off all the lights, he buried himself under the covers and tried his best to fall asleep. It was difficult, as he had the strangest feeling that someone was watching him…but soon enough, sleep came.


	4. Broken Homes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys deal with the aftermath of Halloween night, and make a plan for the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, things get kinda upsetting in the first paragraph. Description of stabbing and death. Skip if you’re sensitive.

_The blood splattered on the floor, soaking easily into the rug. The victim choked, arms flailing weakly, trying to somehow staunch the flow from the wound on his neck. He’d only live a few moments more, but that was plenty of time to be in unimaginable pain. The killer dragged his knife along the victim’s stomach, splitting it open. The victim couldn’t scream, and only made a few small noises.The killer laughed hoarsely. He raised the knife and drove it into the victim’s chest. Then again. And again. Seven times he stabbed, the victim unable to stop him. But the killer was just as helpless. In his mind, he screamed over and over, silently begging the thing controlling him to stop, to put down the knife. But the thing only laughed, mocking him for being so weak, so powerless. He could do something, but instead he’s just watching it happen. If you want to stop it so badly, then do something. Cry out, call for help, scream in despair, say something, say anything, but you can’t, you can only watch…_

Jameson jerked awake, breathing heavy. A nightmare. It was only a nightmare. But also a memory.

Sitting up, JJ tried to remember where he was. Sun was streaming through open windows. Everything was…clear. Much clearer than it had been for a long, long time. The events of the previous night suddenly came crashing down, bringing mixed emotions flooding with them. On the one hand, Jameson was free. Free from Anti’s influence, forever. On the other hand, decades had passed. Everyone he’d known and loved was probably dead. Friends, family, coworkers…

Jameson shook his head. He couldn’t bother these lovely people with all his troubles. What kind of repayment would that be, dumping all his trauma on the ones who’d rescued him? Actually…where were they?

JJ stood up. The screen from the night before—the TV—was turned off. A messy pile of blankets on the floor showed where Marvin had slept. The sound of friendly voices came from a nearby room. JJ wandered over and poked his head through the doorway.

It appeared to be the kitchen/dining room, though more advanced than the ones Jameson knew. The counter was covered in messy bowls and plates, jugs of milk and bottles of orange juice. A sliding glass door led outside to the backyard. Chase, Jackie, and Marvin—wearing the same outfits from the night before—were all present, Chase and Jackie arguing while Marvin sat at the dining table staring at a small black rectangle in his hand.

“I refuse to eat anything with blueberries in it,” Jackie said, folding his arms. “They’re fucking disgusting.”

“But you can’t take the chocolate chips!” Chase gasped. “The kids love them, and I’m almost out!”

“Alright, no chocolate, but keep those filthy little berries out of the batter. I’d rather eat the pancakes plain.”

“Or you could, you know, make two batches,” Marvin jumped in without looking up from the device in his hand.

“We didn’t make enough batter,” Chase explained. “And we don’t have ingredients for more.”

“Jesus Christ, Chase, what does it take to get you to go grocery shopping?” Jackie said, exasperated. “Any longer, and I’ll have to drag you to the shop by your toes.”

Jameson coughed, drawing the attention of everyone else. “Oh, you’re awake!” Jackie said, smiling cheerfully. “Great! Are you hungry? We made pancakes.”

JJ paused, taking in the mess on the kitchen counter. He raised an eyebrow.

“Well, we made the batter, at least,” Jackie amended. “Now we’re trying to decide if we want anything in it? D’you have any preferences?”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Chase rushed across the room, grabbed a notepad and pencil that was sitting on the table, and threw it to Jameson, who fumbled before catching it.

“Oh. Right. Sorry,” Jackie muttered, embarassed.

Jameson quickly wrote, _No, it’s perfectly alright. We met each other just last night, after all._

“Don’t worry, I’ll remember,” Jackie assured him. “Now, d’you want anything with your pancakes?”

_I’ll stick with the plain Jane variety, if you don’t mind._

“Got it.” Jackie turned to Chase and said triumphantly, “That’s two votes for no blueberries! That means we win!”

“I vote for blueberries,” Marvin said, waving his hand.

Jackie turned to him. “Oh, come on! We _just_ reached a decision! Why do you always have to do this?”

“I like to fuck things up,” Marvin shrugged.

“Okay, you know what, we’re making both, we’ll figure it out,” Chase stepped in.

As Jackie and Chase set about making the pancakes, Jameson crossed the room and sat at the dining table, across from Marvin. “Hey, you ever seen a cell phone?” Marvin asked, waving the rectangular device he was holding. JJ shook his head. “It’s cool. Phones can do almost anything nowadays. And you can touch the screen. Check it out.”

Marvin handed the phone over, and watched as Jameson’s expression changed from puzzlement to wonder. “You can tap on the little icons to open shit,” Marvin said. “Not literally, of course. I dunno if that’s what you thought.” JJ tapped the screen a couple times, a small smile crossing his face. It lit up his face, and Marvin couldn’t help but smile back. When he wasn’t scared and traumatized, JJ was a right little ray of sunshine.

But in a split second, everything changed. Jameson’s smile fell, his face went white, and he dropped the phone on the table. “Whoa, what happened?” Marvin picked up the phone. He frowned. “It’s just glitching out a bit. My phone is kinda shitty like that. Are…are you okay?”

Jameson nodded, though he was still pale. Marvin wasn’t fooled at all, but he dropped it, changing the subject. “So, d’you have any idea where you want to stay?” he asked. “I mean, I guess you could crash with Chase for a couple days, but his kids come to visit on the weekends and I dunno if you want to meet them, or whatever. And Jackie’s apartment is pretty small. Have any ideas?”

A confused expression crossed JJ’s face. _You didn’t suggest your own home in that list. Is it unavailable?_

“No, ah, not exactly.” Marvin laughed nervously. “I guess if you wanna you could stay in my hotel room for a bit, but that’s not a, um, _stable_ location. ‘Cause, you know, I don’t own it.”

_If it’s not too rude to ask, why are you staying in a hotel and not your own home?_

Before Marvin could answer—or think of a way to dodge the question—the other two provided a distraction. “Flip them now, Chase!” “I know how to make pancakes, discount Spider-Man!” “Not good pancakes! Flip ‘em!”

“Fucking hell, you two, why is cooking the thing that destroys your friendship?” Marvin said, exasperated.

“Who would’ve thought it came down to breakfast?” Chase sighed dramatically. Meanwhile, Jackie took advantage of his distraction to reach over and hurriedly flip the pancakes. “Hey! Don’t think I didn’t see that!” The two of them proceeded to wrestle over the spatula while standing next to a hot griddle.

“None of us are adults,” Marvin shook his head. “JJ, you better have some common sense, ‘cause this group really fucking needs it.”

_I suppose that depends on your definition of ‘common sense.’_

“Well, you can’t be any worse than the rest of us. Anyway, back to the question. Where d’you want to stay?”

Jameson hesitated, pencil frozen on paper. Then, slowly, _This may sound absurd, but I would prefer to go home. My house, that is. I believe you know the place I am talking about._

Marvin frowned. “That…doesn’t sound like a good idea. Actually, it sounds like a terrible idea. A no-good, fucking horrible shitwreck of an idea, for so many reasons I’m gonna have to take a moment to process that you actually said it.”

“Pancakes are ready!” Chase said cheerfully, setting plates on the dining table. The buttery smell filled the room.

“And we got drinks, too,” Jackie added, carefully balancing a stack of glasses while holding a jug of milk and a bottle of orange juice.

“Be careful, Jackie,” Chase said, keeping an eye on the stack. “I don’t want to have broken glass on the floor when the kids come over.”

“Oh yeah, because you’re gonna leave any glass just on the floor for anyone to step on, for two whole days,” Jackie retorted. “Or, you know, like I’m gonna just not clean up my own mess. Anyway, there’s no need to worry, see?” He’d successfully set all four glasses on the table without dropping any.

“Oh hey, Jackie, can you explain to our new friend why it’s a fucking awful idea to go back and live in the old house where the evil creature is probably still lurking?” Marvin asked, overly polite.

Jackie looked at Jameson, puzzled. “Is that really true?”

JJ thought about it, then wrote, _I don’t know where else I would go._

“Well, any of us would be happy to take you in,” Jackie assured him. “But if you really want to, I don’t think we can stop you.”

“Wha-what?” Marvin spluttered. “Okay, never mind the malicious, homicidal, supernatural entity. How about the fact that the place is a shithole that’s falling apart with holes in the floor? And there’s no food or place to sleep anywhere?”

“We can make it work,” Jackie said positively. “It can’t be too hard to fix up. And besides, it’s not like we can force Jameson to stay here, can we?”

Marvin looked like he very much wanted to do exactly that. Luckily, Chase saw the warning signs and jumped in with a solution, “Hey, how ‘bout we all go there together and check it out? Then we can see if there’s anything evil there, and how much of a fixer-upper it is.”

Recognizing the line Chase was throwing him, and not wanting to fight with Marvin, Jackie agreed, “That’s a great idea, Chase. And if anything goes wrong, we’ll have each others’ backs. You know, like a team. Eh, Marvin?”

The magician sighed. “Alright, I guess it can’t hurt. But let’s go after breakfast, okay?”


	5. Broken Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys head back to the house where it all started, and finally have an encounter with the creature known as “Anti.”

It took them a while to get ready. Jackie had misplaced his backpack full of hero supplies in all the activity last night, and ran around the house looking for it. Once he’d found it, he insisted that everyone take turns using the bathroom to freshen up. That added about an hour to the waiting time, during which Marvin refused to do anything other than scroll through his phone, reviewing his most powerful spells. If they were going back to the house, he wanted to be as prepared as possible.

Finally, everyone was ready to go. Jackie and Chase had managed to find new clothes, and Chase had offered to lend some to the other two. They’d both declined, JJ explaining that he felt more comfortable in his own, and Marvin snapping that he didn’t want to waste any more time and that his costume was better for spellcasting anyway. They set out soon after that.

“Please tell me you remember how to get there,” Chase said.

“I kinda just…stumbled upon it by chance,” Marvin admitted. He glanced over at Jameson, about to ask if he could get them there, but JJ was looking around the neighborhood with wide eyes. No doubt the modern suburbs, now lit up in the daylight, were a bit of a shock to him. “But I’m sure I can get us there again, if we just wander over to the edge of the city.”

Indeed, it wasn’t too long before the foursome had made their way to the area of town made up of narrow, old-fashioned buildings. “Does anyone even live here anymore?” Jackie wondered out loud.

“If they do, they have to be a lot older than us,” Chase replied.

“I think this is the place,” Marvin said, pointing to a familiar gate. Now on edge, he pulled his wand out from his pocket.

Noticing the movement, Jackie said, “Now hold on a minute, Marvy boy. It looks fine so far.”

“Never hurts to be prepared,” Marvin shrugged.

During the banter, Jameson had wandered over and opened the gate. He stared at the house with a strange expression on his face, something caught in the middle of longing, fear, and nostalgia. The others caught up soon.

“You okay, bro?” Chase asked, concerned.

Jameson took out the paper and pencil from that morning and wrote, _It’s a bit…strange, but it’s not an entirely unpleasant feeling. I’ll be all right._

“We can always turn back,” Marvin suggested.

Jameson shook his head and started up the path. He didn’t know how to explain it to the others, but he felt like he had to come back. Was it just the need to make sure Anti was gone? Or was it because this was the last connection to his past? Maybe it was a mix of both, and something else he couldn’t describe.

The others looked at each other, then followed.

The inside of the house looked even worse in the daylight. Beams of light were coming from the holes in the ceiling, illuminating the missing plaster in the walls and the broken pieces of trash all over the floor. Electric wires dangled from broken lighting fixtures, and the floorboards were loose to the point of being a hazard.

“Jesus Christ, Marvin, how did you manage to get around here in the pitch black dark?” Jackie asked, shaking his head. “It’s still kinda dim. I’m worried I’m ‘bout to break an ankle.”

“I have magic night vision eyes,” Marvin explained matter-of-factly.

Jameson looked around the house. He’d known it was like this, but it was different seeing it when his mind was clear…it was confirmation of how much time had passed, that it hadn’t all been a trick. He headed toward the stairs. He had to see if it was the same upstairs.

“Uh, dude, you okay?” Chase called. But Jameson gave no indication that he’d heard and kept climbing upstairs. Chase glanced nervously at the other two. Jackie returned his look, but Marvin was frowning at the trash on the floor.

“Hang on…” he kicked a torn piece of paper, revealing strange symbols written on it. “This is a protection sigil. A pretty powerful one. But it’s all messed up.”

“Could’ve fallen down,” Jackie suggested.

Marvin shook his head. “See that black stone over there?” He pointed at a bit of rock that looked like it had been broken in half. “That’s another ward. You’re supposed to hang it up and it’ll keep evil spirits out. But…well, just look at it. You think anything natural could’ve broken solid rock like that?”

Chase bit his lip nervously. “So what you’re saying is that this house _was_ super protected by magic, but now it’s not?”

“Not just magic, pretty damn powerful magic,” Marvin clarified. He looked around at the wrecked walls and ceiling around them. “What the fuck kind of being could’ve done this?” he whispered.

“Okay, maybe you were right and this wasn’t the best idea,” Jackie said nervously. “We should probably leave. I’m getting a bad feeling.”

“Well, we need to tell that to JJ,” Chase pointed up the stairs. Jameson was nowhere in sight.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Marvin gasped. The three of them ran up the stairs.

* * *

The room looked the same as ever. The phonograph sat on the table, now silent. The faded shadow of a broken circle was drawn on the floor. It had been meant for protection. It had failed.

Jameson made his way to the center of the room. He’d made the biggest mistake of his life here. And in doing so, he’d lost everything. Decades had passed, and he hadn’t even known. Not only that, but many others had lost their lives because of him.

_It’s all your fault._

If he hadn’t decided to mess about with things he didn’t understand, maybe he never would’ve drawn Anti’s attention. Maybe all those people would still be alive. Maybe he wouldn’t see all their faces every time he closed his eyes, or feel their blood on his hands.

_It’s all your fault._

If he’d just tried more. If he’d just fought harder against Anti, nothing would’ve happened. But he hadn’t. He couldn’t. He only watched.

_It’s all your fault._

_**It’s all your fault.** _

_**It͠'s̷ ͞all͡ yoưr ̡fa͠ult̵.̸** _

The words kept repeating in his head. It _was_ his fault. Everything. He’d let Anti do whatever he’d wanted, never speaking up, too terrified to do anything. He’d been a coward. A weak, voiceless vessel for a demon. Countless lives, gone. Years of his own life, gone. All because of him, because he’d just watched, unable or unwilling to even call for help, as everything happened, it was all his fault, _it was all his fault_ …

“No!”

A blinding flash of white-green light lit up the room, and a strange, almost metallic, shriek rang out. Jameson was brought back to the present moment just in time to see a shadow—or was it more than one? or just an illusion?—in the shape of a man flee the scene. Marvin, Jackie, and Chase stood in the rooms doorway, Marvin in front with his wand outstretched, the tip emitting a faint green light. All three looked at Jameson with a mixture of horror and concern. JJ realized he’d fallen to his knees at some point, and warm blood was leaking from his eyes and nose.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Chase repeated over and over. “Is…is everything okay?”

“What the hell do you think, Chase?!” Jackie lashed out, turning his anxiety into anger.

“What the fuck was that thing?” Marvin cried. “Was that—was that _him_?”

Jameson looked at his hands, which were shaking. He wanted to answer that yes, that was Anti, but he’d dropped the paper and pencil somehow and he couldn’t just _tell_ them because he couldn’t…he couldn’t…

For some reason, that thought broke through the hard shield surrounding his damaged emotions. Tears leaked from Jameson’s eyes as he started to sob silently. Before he knew it, the other three were kneeling on the floor with him, Jackie’s arm around his shoulder, Chase muttering small, comforting things, and Marvin using his magic to summon a blanket from nowhere.

“It’s gonna be okay…” Chase said quietly. “You’re okay…”

Jameson shook his head. He wasn’t sure he believed him.

“It’ll take some work, but we’re not going to leave you behind,” Jackie assured him. “We’re here to help, whenever you need us.”

“But you’re gonna have to work with us,” Marvin said. “If we don’t know what’s wrong, we don’t know what to do. Just…please. Talk to us. Or, well, not talk, I guess, but you get it. We’ll listen.”

JJ would’ve laughed if he could. He’d only met these three the night before, and yet, here they were, willing to help with something that they had no idea how to fix, if they even could. It was…touching.

They stayed like that for a while, all wrapped up in a tangle of everyone’s arms combined with the blanket Marvin had conjured. After countless minutes passed, JJ finally extracted himself from the knot, wiping the tears and blood from his face. He looked around for the paper and pencil he’d lost. Jackie figured out what he wanted and scrambled to pick them up from where they’d been dropped on the floor. He handed them to JJ, who paused for a moment, then wrote, _I can’t promise that this’ll be easy for any of us. There are some things that even I do not want to think about. But I think you’re right. No good can come from bottling everything up. It will just attract Anti again. If you’re offering your services, I’d be a fool to not take you up on that._

“Okay…okay,” Chase wiped his eyes free of tears. “You’re good. I’m good. We’re all good.”

“What we’re going to do right now,” Marvin said, “is get the fuck out of this house. Let’s all go back to Chase’s place, where we can open up emotionally. Or, you know, play video games if we don’t want to do that thing right now.”

“We can come back some other time if you want, JJ,” Jackie offered. “When you’re ready. More prepared. And when Marvin’s had a chance to magically scope out the place.”

JJ nodded, and smiled. Tears welled in his eyes again, but this time, of an entirely different sort.

Together, the four of them headed home.


	6. Epilogue?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months later...

It was a bright day in May. The sun shone, though there were still clouds in the sky, and a gentle breeze would occasionally sweep through the streets. Jackie and Marvin walked quickly down the road, with JJ trailing a bit behind them.

“He totally knows where we’re going,” Marvin said to Jackie, lowering his voice so JJ wouldn’t hear them.

“Yeah, probably, but maybe he’s not sure why we’re going there,” Jackie pointed out.

“I mean, he’s not an idiot.”

“He’s also not deaf, and I’m pretty sure our voices are carrying.”

Marvin glanced behind him. JJ smiled, wiggling his mustache. Marvin wasn’t sure if that meant he’d heard every word they’d said, so he asked, “You okay back there?”

JJ signed, _A little confused, but quite excited as well._ The silent man had picked up sign language fairly quickly, though the others sometimes had difficulty interpreting his fast-moving hands.

“Good. I’m sure you recognize this part of town.” Marvin gestured around them at the tall, narrow buildings.

_Indeed so. It appears the area has gone through some renovations._

“Yep. The city’s doin’ some kind of historic revival. Started back in March. And we—well, it was Jackie’s idea but Chase and I helped—”

“We’re here!” Jackie interrupted. They’d stopped in front of the gate, a familiar path leading up to a familiar house. But it had changed. Or rather, it had returned to its original state. JJ’s eyes widened as he took in the repaired roof, the neat garden, the cheerful blue paint on the walls. It looked just like it had back in the year 1926.

JJ looked at the others with an expression of utter amazement. Jackie was practically bouncing with excitement , a huge dorky smile on his face. Marvin was more subdued, but he was still grinning widely. “C’mon, let’s go inside,” the magician said. He pushed open the gate and it swung forward with barely a creak. The three headed up the path.

“Hold on a sec.” Jackie rummaged around in the pocket of the hoodie and pulled out a key, which he held out to Jameson. “We put new locks on the doors. And, uh, would you like to do the honors?”

Jameson stared at the key for a moment before taking it. Unlocking the door, the three stepped inside.

The inside was just as changed as the outside. The wooden floor and stairs were polished, the walls covered in a daffodil-colored wallpaper. The lighting fixtures had been restored and updated for the modern era, and gave off a warm yellow light.

“I tried to restore most of your protection wards, but I’m not really, uhm, well-versed in that kind of magic.” Marvin gestured to some sigils hanging on the walls, strange symbols drawn on them. “So I kinda combined it with my type. They should work fine, if not even better. And we all decided it would be best to keep _that_ room sealed. You know, in case they’re some dark magic shit still in there.”

JJ would’ve been speechless even if he had a voice. He wandered over to one of the doors and opened it, peering inside to see the room as painstakingly restored as the entrance hall.

“Hope you don’t mind that there’s not any decorations or anything,” Jackie said. “We didn’t know if you would want anything.” He cleared his throat. “So, uh, do you like it?”

JJ turned back to the other two, his smile lighting up the room. He signed _Thank you,_ over and over again, because just one wouldn’t be enough to convey how he felt.

“Oh my god, that’s great!” Jackie smiled, partly in relief. “I was kinda nervous for a second there. I wish Chase could’ve been here for the reveal, but he’s visiting the hospital again.”

Something made a chiming sound. “Oh, actually, maybe that’s him,” Marvin said, digging into the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out his phone, quickly reading the text on the screen. His expression changed immediately.

 _Is something wrong?_ JJ signed.

“Is something wrong?” Jackie asked, realizing Marvin wasn’t looking up to see the signs.

“We have to meet up with Chase. Right now.” Marvin stuffed the phone back in his pocket, then whirled around and swiftly headed back out.

“Why? Is something wrong? Something with Jack?” Jackie ran to catch up, JJ following behind.

“Nothing’s wrong. The opposite, actually.”

“Can you stop being cryptic for five seconds? Would you die if you actually gave us specifics?”

“Specifics, huh? Alright.” Marvin faced the other two, a crooked smile on his face. “The doctor is back.”


End file.
